


Change of Plans

by autobotscoutriella



Series: Archaeometric Dating [5]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, The Bartender Is Always Right, unacknowledged emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 07:12:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18115868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autobotscoutriella/pseuds/autobotscoutriella
Summary: Lancer wanted to have a fun night out with Greenlight. That plan fell through. Now her plan to drink until she doesn't have to think about the attack has fallen through, too.





	Change of Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [FandomWeekly](https://fandomweekly.dreamwidth.org/206680.html) for the challenge "Overindulgence". Takes place immediately after [Domino Effect](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18026129).

High-quality engex was too rare these days to miss out on. That, at least, was Lancer's excuse for the two empty cubes in front of her, and the half-finished one in her hand. They were tiny, anyway—and if they resulted in a little bit of processor fog, well, it wasn't as if she wanted to be sober enough to think right now anyway.

"You sure you're alright, kid?" Nightcloud, the bartender, planted an elbow on the counter beside her and looked her up and down with a critical optic. "Don't usually see you drinking alone."

"Yeah, well." Lancer downed half the remaining engex in one gulp without making optic contact. "Maybe I wanted to mix it up for once."

She really hadn't. She'd had _plans—_ Greenlight would have just gotten back, if the Nova base hadn't sent her back early with the doomed supply run. If it had all gone to plan, Greenlight would have been sitting with her now instead of recovering in the medbay.

Rather than think about _that_ further, she took another sip of her engex. The pleasant haze of overcharge couldn't come soon enough. Her plans had changed. She didn’t have to like it, but she couldn’t fix it.

Nightcloud eyed the two cubes on the counter with something that resembled suspicion. "Probably be better off if you did mix it. How much straight engex have you had, anyway?"

"None of your business." Lancer finished her third cube in one swallow and reached for another. Nightcloud batted it out of her reach. "Hey!"

"Slow it down, unless you wanna get kicked out for the night."

"I think Hubcap's gonna have something to say about it if you kick out a customer," Lancer muttered rebelliously, but stacked the third cube neatly with the other two anyway. The tower promptly fell over. Maybe her hands weren't quite as steady as she'd thought. "I'm fine, Nightcloud. You know I'm not a lightweight. Go away."

"Hey, just 'cause you’re paying doesn't mean I'm gonna sit around and watch until someone has to carry you out. Hubcap trusts my judgment." Nightcloud let her take the cube anyway, dark blue optics studying her every move. "Last one. How's your girlfriend doing?"

"She's— _what_?" Lancer stopped with her cube halfway to her mouth, turning slowly to face the bartender. "She—I—Greenlight's not my girlfriend."

"Oh. Sorry. I figured..." Nightcloud trailed off and raised a shoulder in a shrug. "Guess I thought, always seeing you two together, and then after she gets hurt you're here drowning something--I figured there was something more there. Shouldn't have assumed."

Lancer waved a hand, watching her fingers move for a fascinated moment before turning her attention back to sipping her engex. "'S fine." Her words were starting to run together. Maybe Nightcloud had been right about the engex kicking in early. "It's not...I'm not upset. Jus' hadn't thought about it, y'know?"

But now that someone had said it out loud...

It still wasn't a good idea to think about it. Greenlight was in the medbay. They had a war to fight. It wasn't a good time for anything else.

"Fair enough." Nightcloud swept the three empty cubes off the counter and into a sanitizer compartment, ignoring the brief flood of heat from the opening. "So how is she?"

"She'll, uh..." Lancer had to stop and think to remind herself what they were talking about in the first place. "She'll be okay. Medic said she'd—she'd be out earlier, but 's a busted knee, so she's gotta stay until she can walk. She'll...she'll be out soon."

And then she would have to apologize for not being there. For assuming the mission would just be _routine_ and they wouldn't need an extra warrior. For not telling Greenlight that in the first place, when she'd first come back...

She reached for her engex cube again. That was a problem for Tomorrow Lancer. Tonight Lancer wanted to drink enough high-quality engex to not think about it.

She didn't have to look up to feel Nightcloud's optics on her, and the concern washing through an open, welcoming EM field. Her own should have been tucked close to her frame, but she could feel emotion working its way out, practically bleeding out around the edges. To make matters worse, something that felt suspiciously like tears had started to build in the back of her throat.

Damnit. Maybe the engex hadn't been a great idea. Or maybe she just hadn't had enough of it yet.

"Look..." Nightcloud hummed, field nudging lightly against Lancer's in silent reassurance. "Why don't you call it a night, okay? When your...uh, friend's back up and around, bring her back for a drink. I'll save some of the Towers stuff. Uh, as long as you don't tell Hubcap I'm doing that, 'course. It'll be gone in a day or two with this crowd if I don't."

There were only three other mechs at the counter. Lancer opened her mouth to point that out, but what came out was, "I dunno if she'd want..."

"Sure she would." Nightcloud gently removed the engex cube from Lancer's hand, clamped a flat lid back on, and handed it back. "Take that for later. You've had enough for now. Go on home. Get some sleep. She'll be fine, and I expect to see you _both_ back here once she's recovered. Got me?"

Lancer wanted to protest. To her frustration, though, her fingers couldn't quite get a grip on the lid. It just – wouldn't – _catch_.

If she couldn’t get it open, she couldn’t keep drinking. There went _that_ solution.

"...Fine."


End file.
